


Tea For Two

by BreakfastTea



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Nyota and Jim are BFFs, Pretty much gen though, Star Trek Beyond Spoilers, Tea solves all woes, hints of mckirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:58:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7937359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Krall's attack, Nyota and Jim come together over tea to talk through everything that happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea For Two

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I *love* the idea that when they're not on duty, Jim and Nyota are totally BFFs. I wanted to explore that idea, while simultaneously exploring something Beyond touched on regarding the Federation itself. I figured these two would have quite a lively debate about it... In fact, it got so lively, I've been working on this since July.

Nyota jolted awake. Another nightmare released her into the darkness of her apartment aboard _Yorktown._ She pressed her hands to her eyes. Every time she slept, she saw Krall consume the lifeforce of her co-workers, or watched poor Ensign Syl disintegrate before her eyes. Tearful, sweating, and faintly nauseous, Nyota sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest.

“Computer, lights, thirty per cent.”

The lights came up. Nyota’s forehead thudded onto her knees. Three days out from the destruction of the _Enterprise_ and Krall’s barely contained attack, and she still couldn’t manage more than a few hours of sleep before it all descended into chaotic nightmares. Rehashing everything in a debriefing with Commodore Paris and various admirals back at Command earlier hadn’t helped. She’d hoped the long run she’d taken at the gym earlier may have worn her out enough to induce a long night of deep, dreamless sleep.

She laughed bitterly at her naiveté.

She was trained to communicate, but it was the one thing she couldn’t do right now. She usually went to Spock, but she refused to burden him, not when they were taking tentative steps towards some kind of understanding. No. She had to deal with this herself. She was perfectly capable.

Nyota climbed out of bed and dressed quickly. It she couldn’t sleep, she might as well get something done. She hadn’t had the chance to pick up any fresh groceries, so why put if off until _Yorktown_ hit its daytime cycle? She slid her feet into a pair of boots and headed out.

_Yorktown_ was certainly quieter during its night time cycle, but it was far from deserted. Like any city, people worked at all hours. People dressed for a night out, people in suits, people out walking, and plenty of people in uniform. Maybe she should offer to put in a few late nights in the communications hub. Shore leave didn’t have to last the entire time they were out here, waiting for the new ship. Maybe keeping herself busy would help.

She ignored the little voice in her head telling her running away from her feelings wasn’t dealing with them. Funny how much that voice sounded like Spock.

At the grocery store, she strolled listlessly along the aisles. Her weary mind struggled to focus. She forced herself to pluck a few essentials off the shelves. As long as she had something for breakfast later in the morning, it wouldn’t be a totally wasted trip. She paid and headed home. She was halfway there when she caught sight of a familiar figure in uniform sat on a bench, staring out at space beyond the station.

Nyota headed over. “Hey.”

Kirk looked up at her. He looked pale and distracted, his eye still bruised. He was in dress uniform, the jacket unzipped. When he realised who he was staring at, he gave her a faint smile. “Good morning.”

“Is it?”

“0300.”

She sat down next to him. “Can’t sleep?”

“Can’t sleep,” he said. “You heading anywhere interesting?”

“Home. I went grocery shopping.” Nyota held up her bag.

“This early?”

She shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“There’s an Earth-themed coffee shop a couple of blocks away. I’ve heard they do excellent tea and hot chocolate. Whaddya say? My treat.”

Ten minutes later, they were seated in a small coffee shop, orders placed and brewing. Designed to resemble hipster coffee shops popular in the early twenty-first century, it was a mixture of wood panelling and metal surfaces, the light fixtures similar to ancient lightbulbs. Soft alternative classical music played out of hidden speakers. There were only a handful of other patrons, sitting alone and working hard on PADDs. The coffee-scented air was surprisingly homey. It was easy to forget they weren’t on Earth.

A barista came over, toting two trays. Nyota had opted for a Kenyan tea. She poured the first cup, added a splash of milk and took a deep breath, the maltiness soothing her. It reminded her of home, of breakfast with her family. Maybe she’d find a way back to Earth before the next _Enterprise_ was ready to leave spacedock.

She glanced at Kirk’s order. His hands looked strangely huge as he poured himself a cup from a dainty glass teapot. “Tea?” she asked.

He slid his jacket off and hung it over the back of his chair. “Yeah, Ceylon, from Earth. I find it relaxing.”

“I always assumed you’d be a coffee guy.”

Kirk’s lips twitched. “Not at this hour. Bones banned me from coffee after midnight about a month into our first trip out on the _Enterprise._ Tea became a habit.” He looked at her. “Are you holding up okay?”

She laughed. It only sounded a tad tearful. “It’s 0330, and I’m in a coffee shop drinking my favourite tea from Earth. You?”

He laughed right back at her. “It’s 0330, and I’m in a historically themed coffee shop on a space station on the edge of uncharted space.” He blew the steam off his drink. “I won’t tell Bones or Spock if you don’t.”

She raised her mug. “Deal.”

He touched his mug to hers. “Nightmares?” he asked gently.

Nyota’s hands trembled. She placed her mug down before she spilled anything. The words rushed out. “I keep seeing what Krall did. The people he killed. It’s there every time I close my eyes.” She stared into her tea, willing the tears not to fall. She released her mug and clenched her fists. “It was so unnecessary. Their deaths were so unfair.” She nearly punched the table, but managed to control it so her fist thumped the surface lightly. She released a tight breath and pressed her hands down, sweat leaving steam prints on the metal surface. “Wish I could’ve punched Krall, Edison, a few times myself.”

“You’re the reason I had the chance,” Kirk said. “You sacrificed your own safety and freedom for the _Enterprise._ For the crew. For me. I’m never going to forget that. If you hadn’t, those of us left on the saucer would be dead.”

“We lost so many people.”

“But we didn’t lose everyone. And we didn’t lose _Yorktown._ ”

“I know.” But that knowledge didn’t stop Syl’s last moments playing out over and over again in her mind.

“You feel like you should’ve done more,” Kirk said.

Nyota nodded. “I keep analysing everything, over and over. It’s what we’re taught to do, isn’t it? If only I’d made Syl walk with me. If only I’d found a way to get through to Krall. If only I’d –”

“Known Kalara was leading us into a trap sooner,” Jim interrupted. “Starfleet loves their self-evaluations and _how can we do better next time_ paperwork, but the past is finished with. We can’t change it, no matter how much we want to.” He reached over and placed his hand on hers. “Ensign Syl didn’t die for nothing. She gave us the chance we needed. She didn’t back down or hesitate when I asked her to hide the Abronath. She was incredibly courageous. I told her family the same.” He pulled his hand back. “It doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t make it fair that they’re gone and we’re here, but every single member of the crew we lost took the fall so their crewmates could live on and save _Yorktown_. I don’t care if it sounds like a cliché, that’s what they did, and I’ve made sure their families knew.”

“You’ve written to all of them?” Nyota asked.

“All of them. I probably should’ve consulted with the best communications officer in the ‘Fleet, but I did my best.”

No wonder he looked so wrecked. Days of speaking with bereaved families must have been exhausting. “All you had to do was ask.”

He waved her concern away. “A few families are here on the _Yorktown,_ so I’ve met with them in person. I finished an hour ago. I was just planning on how to broach the subject of salvaging the _Enterprise_ from Altamid when you came along.” He paused for tea. “But I think I need to give Command a day or two to calm down.”

“Calm down?”

“Oh, they’re pissed. They wanted to know why they’ve lost the _Enterprise_ and why they nearly lost _Yorktown_. It took about fifty repetitions, but I think they finally got the message.”

“About Edison?”

“Yeah. Then they wanted to know if there’s room at the museum to put the _Franklin_ next to Archer’s _Enterprise._ ”

Nyota laughed. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. After all that shit with Section Thirty-One, Starfleet’s sworn to never cover up any of the nastier aspects of their history.”

“Do they expect us to be there for the grand opening of the museum’s new wing?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I intend to have us in the deepest reaches of unknown space before that happens.” Kirk cupped his mug in his hands. “Besides, I don’t think they’ll want me talking to the public about the once great, tragically fallen Captain Edison.”

“The Federation is an act of war,” Nyota said, remembering the man’s words to her. She’d heard him and dismissed it. The Federation was an act of peace and unity. His opinion was invalid. He was a century out of date. Out of touch. Consumed by bitterness and hatred. He was a man out of time. She finished her first cup and poured more tea. “He was wrong,” she said dismissively.

When Kirk didn’t immediately respond, Nyota glanced at him. She saw the look on his face, one she recognised from all the times he’d chewed over a particularly tricky set of negotiations or an anomaly that effected the ship’s systems. “You think he was right?” she asked.

“Just hear me out.”

“Okay…”

“We travel the universe. We seek out new lifeforms and new civilisations and what do we do? Ask them to join us, insist that we’re the best way forward, that they’ve done well on their own to achieve warp technology, but the next best thing is to join us. We might not be fighting wars over territory, but we’re still claiming planets in the name of the Federation, aren’t we?” He drank the tea, swallowing hard. His dimmed eyes locked onto Nyota’s. She saw the weight he carried. She’d joined Starfleet to _listen,_ not to win wars, but he was a captain. His job meant worrying about the safety of the people who served on his ship. Apparently, that meant questioning Starfleet’s MO. “We don’t stop for a minute to consider that maybe other worlds don’t need to be with us. Once we’ve found them, we extend the hand of friendship, but what if they’re better left alone?”

“That’s why we have the Prime Directive,” Nyota said. “If a world isn’t ready, we don’t offer membership to the Federation.”

“That makes us sound so elitist.”

“It’s not elitism. It’s for their own good.”

“And that sounds patronising.”

“You know it isn’t,” Nyota said. “We all work better when we work together.”

“I’m just looking at this from another angle.”

Nyota frowned. “I’m not sure I like this angle.”

“I don’t either, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“A little too much,” Nyota said gently.

He conceded with a nod and continued. "It's cynical, but the Federation operates on a brilliant self-defensive strategy. The larger the Federation becomes, the harder it’ll be for any enemies to defeat us, right?”

“Sure…” Where was he going with this?

“We’ve got the numbers. Hundreds of worlds. Trillions of people. Untold resources that can be drawn upon. That’s a solid defensive strategy against any outside threats. And if we sign up every world we encounter to begin with, we won't have to fight them because they won’t turn on us.”

Nyota sat back in her chair, his argument filtering through her mind. “You’re right, that’s incredibly cynical.”

“But it’s true.”

Nyota couldn’t deny it. “Fine, I see your point.” And she also saw why the man looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

“I knew you would,” Kirk said.

“But we don’t think of it that way.” Nyota leaned in, caught up in her argument. “That’s like saying I drink this tea only because I know that I require liquid to survive. That’s true, but that’s not why I’m doing it. I’m drinking it because I like it. I’m drinking it because I’m sitting here with you, talking. That’s my overriding thought. Hydration doesn’t come into it.”

“Sure, but buried deep inside you is the biological need for hydration, just like the need to stop outsiders attacking us drives the Federation’s membership policy. You can dress it up however you like, but the need is still there.”

“So you’re saying Edison was right, that the Federation is an act of war?” Nyota asked.

“Yes. No. Sort of.” She watched him gather his thoughts. “It’s a self-defensive act of war.”

“No, it isn’t!” No wonder Spock struggled to comprehend Kirk sometimes. Even Nyota, who didn’t operate according to strict codes of logic, couldn’t keep up with Kirk’s leaps in mental gymnastics. “Yes, we create firm diplomatic ties with the new races we meet because the Federation exists to unite diversity. Vulcan philosophy puts it best; infinite diversity in infinite combination. That’s what we’re thinking when we welcome new worlds into the Federation. It’s about sharing knowledge and resources and celebrating how a culture’s uniqueness contributes to the wider society. We’re explorers, first and foremost. Defence isn’t our primary priority; knowledge is. We’re peaceful people. We aren't going out there thinking of ways to protect ourselves from future hypothetical conflicts.”

“Not anymore.” There was a fire in his eyes.

Nyota matched that fire. It burned inside her. “We won’t let it happen again.”

“Nothing out there is as dangerous as complacency and arrogance on the inside. Edison reminded me that nothing good ever comes from war hungry humans. The Federation works so long as we work at it. You know, like any good relationship.”

“I’ll never accept your act of war theory.”

“I’m trying really hard not to.” He let out a groan. “It’s like I’m back in one of the Academy’s debate classes, except I’m arguing both sides in my own head.”

“I’m on the Federation’s side of your internal debate,” Nyota said.

Jim looked over his mug at her. “Good to know. And I am, too. I just can’t help picking these things apart.”

“Did you ask Leonard for his opinion?”

Jim swallowed a mouthful tea. He leaned back with a grin. “Do you remember him ever being in our debate classes?”

Nyota cast her mind back. “Actually, no.”

“Exactly. Second semester of our first year, the instructor asked him to make the case for why Terra Prime activism during 2150s was an understandable response to the Xindi attack on Earth.”

“Uh oh.”

Kirk chuckled. “So he stands up and tells the instructor he’d do no such thing, ma’am, because that kind of thinking was stupid, is stupid, and only a moron would argue otherwise.”

“At least he called her ma’am.”

“Oh, that southern charm is hardwired into every single scrap of his DNA.”

Nyota knew it very well. No one else in the known universe could get away with calling her _Miss Nyota._

“The instructor tried to remind him the point of debating is to learn to look at a situation from all sides.”

She smirked at him. “You learned that lesson way too well.”

“Hah, I know. Anyway, Bones goes on to tell the instructor that debating historical issues was an exercise in pointlessness, because if the lessons of the past hadn’t been learned by now, they never would be.”

“That’s surprisingly logical of him.”

“Isn’t it?” Kirk asked, delighted. “Are you gonna tell Spock?”

“Maybe.” Nyota grinned. She would definitely be telling Spock.

Laughing, Kirk continued. “The instructor said it’s only by learning the lessons of the past that we can strive to do our best in the future. Bones tells her it’s only the present that matters, that his time would be better spent finding cures for diseases hurting people right now, and if she had a problem with that, she could take it up with Starfleet Medical’s research department. He gets up and walks out, and while everyone else is just gaping in horror, I’m laughing so hard, the instructor kicks me out and tells me to inform Cadet McCoy he’s excused from her class for the rest of his time at the Academy.”

“I can’t believe I missed this.”

“Ah, that’s the problem with having your head buried in subspace communication theory.”

Nyota pointed her teaspoon at him. “If I hadn’t done that, you wouldn’t have Starfleet’s foremost communications expert on your bridge.”

“True, but the story doesn’t end there. The instructor resigned from the Academy the next day and took the first posting she could get on a vessel heading out into deep space. Last I heard, she was serving aboard K-7.”

“The space station near Klingon space?”

“The same one.”

“Whoa.” Nyota laughed. “So that’s a no to talking to Leonard.”

“Sometimes I need to think these things all the way through. I figured he’d tell me I’m being ridiculous halfway through my first sentence, then stab me with a hypospray for being hysterical or something.”

“He really doesn’t stab you as often as you claim he does.”

“Sure, take his side,” Jim mumbled. He glanced at her. “Have you talked to Spock?”

“Ah, no. I wasn’t really in the mood to be logical about this.”

“Understood.” Kirk finished the tea in his mug and poured the last dregs out of his teapot. “Are you guys going to be okay?”

“Have I ever told you how adorable your concern for our relationship is?” Nyota smiled brightly at the brilliant blush that lit up Kirk’s cheeks. “You’re a big softie under all that bravado.”

“You’re just so good for each other!”

She patted his hand. “We’re working on it.”

“Okay, great. Listen, I know what a pain in the ass he can be when all that logic bullshit blinds him, but I also know that he’s proud of his Vulcan heritage and wants to honour it as best he can.”

“I know,” Nyota said. And she did. Better than Kirk did. She loved Spock. She loved him enough to understand and accept his need to do what he could for the sake of his species. There were some things she couldn’t help him with. They needed to talk about it, but not until she’d had enough sleep to keep her emotions together.

“I’m saying if you need to vent, I’ll make sure I have a good pot of tea to keep us company.”

“You’ll bring some aboard the ship?” Nyota asked.

“I already did. Just wish I’d known you were a tea drinker. I would’ve suggested this ages ago.”

“What, meeting up at unholy hours because we’re struggling with losing our crewmates and questioning the foundations of civilisation as we know it?”

“Ensign Syl’s death isn’t on you.”

“I know.” And she did. It was easier to see that after talking it through over a good cup of tea. “But it isn’t on you, either. And stop questioning the foundations of our civilisation. The Federation is a good thing.”

Kirk raised his mug. “To not blaming ourselves for the actions of crazed ex-Starfleet captains.”

She raised hers. “To not allowing the words of a murderer warp your view of the Federation.”

Their mugs met with a musical clink.

They finished their tea in peace, talk turning to less heavy matters. A few other customers drifted in, but no one they knew from the _Enterprise._ 0500 rolled around, bringing with it the first flecks of _Yorktown_ ’s daytime cycle. Nyota yawned. Drowsiness clung to her. She rubbed her eyes. They felt gritty and sore.

“Go to bed,” Kirk said. He placed their empty cups and teapots on one of their trays. “And if you need to talk at 0300 tomorrow, call me. I’ll order the tea.”

Nyota stood. “Fine, but you better go to bed, too. I happen to know the com frequency of a very good doctor who would just love to jam a hypo loaded with sedatives into your neck.”

Kirk squinted at her. “I can’t tell if you’re saying that out of concern, or if you enjoy seeing me suffer.”

“Leonard and I happen to have an understanding,” Nyota said.

“Uh, you do?”

She smiled guilelessly. “Naturally.”

“He told you about what happened when we worked that relief mission at the New Kent colony last year, didn’t he?”

“How many days have you been awake this time?” Nyota asked. Kirk’s record, as far as she knew, was seven.

“Er…” He stared at her. “Not as many as you?” he tried.

Nyota stared at him. The look had been known to turn her staff’s knees to jelly when they weren’t performing up to her standards. It appeared to be having the same effect on Captain Kirk himself. “Are you trying to tell me I look awful?”

“What? No! Never! I, er, I meant that you’ve been having more trouble than I have because you’re such a lovely, caring person, and that you should, uh, maybe worry more about Bones and his deadly hypos than I should. I would never suggest you look awful. Not at all. Never. No. No way.”

Nyota laughed brightly. Kirk rubbed the back of his head, his already messy hair finding new ways to defy artificial gravity. “Go on, go back to your apartment,” she told him. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

He practically deflated. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” She stood and scooped up her grocery bag. “I’ll see you later.”

“Sleep well.” He turned to leave.

“Wait, Jim!” He stopped and looked back. “If you need me at 0300, just call, okay? We all lost people. None of us should be doing this alone. Especially not debating the finer points of Federation policies and procedures with themselves.”

“Thanks, Nyota. Sleep well.”

“And you.”

They went their separate ways. Nyota returned to her apartment. She kicked her boots off and put her groceries away. She programmed her windows to stay blacked out, and silenced her com unit until 1100 hours. Tired, and soothed by her pot of tea, Nyota climbed into bed fully clothed. Her head hit the pillow.

She awoke at 0900, somewhat refreshed if not completely alert. She padded through her apartment and flipped the switch on the kettle. She saw her com unit flashing, telling her she had a message. When she looked at the screen, she saw there were in fact two messages. One from Spock, inquiring if she had time to engage with him socially for lunch. The other from Kirk, suggesting she try Ceylon tea the next time she couldn’t sleep. She told Spock yes, she’d love to meet for lunch, and sent a quick tea recommendation of her own to Kirk.

She didn’t get a response from him until well after lunch. He thanked her, and recommended _Yorktown_ ’s best tea house. And if the occasional 0300 tea meetup remained a shared coping mechanism and the beginnings of an all new debate club, one that followed them from the _Yorktown_ and back out into deep space _,_ no one had to know.

Especially not wielders of hyposprays and expert nerve pinchers.


End file.
